


The Good Samaritan

by PBJellie



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Happy Ending, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Omega Verse, Sex Work, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 14:02:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15341397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PBJellie/pseuds/PBJellie
Summary: Pip meets his soulmate in an unexpected fashion.





	The Good Samaritan

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, I'm back. 
> 
> And apparently writing soulmate AUs. Whateva whateva I do what I want.

Pip always believed that all people were redeemable, that no person was so far gone that they couldn't be saved. He figured that's what led him to this job.

Well that, and his classification as an Omega and lack of a soulmate tattoo. He figured he'd find his before college was over, but he hadn't. It was either sex work or care work, and he couldn't decide. Helping hospitalized Alphas through ruts was a good combination.

He followed a burly nurse down a long dim hallway. He walked quickly, twice as fast as usual, trying to keep pace with the man. This man wasn't an Omega, or at least he didn't look like it, or smell like it. Pip liked to think his nose was pretty attuned to this kind of thing.

“Your guy is a real freak. Thought I'd warn you. Apparently he thinks he's the son of Satan, or some other bullshit.” His voice was gravelly as he continued to speed down the hall.

“I'm sure he's a pleasant lad,” Pip responded, grateful they had stopped in front of a door.

“He made the last one cry,” he snorted as his fat fingers fumbled with a keypad. “Something about dissecting them in the afterlife if he wasn't pleased with the, ahem, encounter.”

“I'm quite good at my job, sir,” Pip said with a slight blush. “I've never had any problems with satisfaction.”

“Of course not,” he grumbled as the door clicked open, “fucking twink.”

“I told you not to bring me anyone!” A ghostly pale man in a blue gown shouted, banging his fists into the wall near the door. “I'd rather ride out a rut alone than with another bumbling buffoon. Don't you know who I am?”

“Sit on the bed before they sedate you.”

“Their drugs don't work. You mortals have no idea. One day you'll all be my servants. And with each dawn I will sike my hounds on you anew.” His eyes darted around the mostly empty room wildly, never resting on one spot. “Do you know who I am?”

“Son of Satan?” Pip asked, stepping into the room. “I'm Phillip. I'm your rut assistant for the next week. You can call me Pip, if you'd like.”

“Which do you prefer?” He asked, red eyes starring. Not stoner red, but red irises. He remembered those eyes from somewhere.

“My friends,” who he hadn't spoken to in ages, “call me Phillip.”

“Then I shall call you Pip.”

“Damien!” Pip squealed, bounding across the room to wrap his arms around him. “It's Pip, from elementary school? We were the best of friends. Mr. Garrison's class?”

“I am not capable of forgetting,” he groaned. “And we certainly weren't the best of friends. I tolerated you and your foolishness.”

“I'll suppose I'll leave you to it. Someone will bring breakfast in the morning.” He took a breath, rolling his eyes. “Remember the cameras, Damien.”

“Hope you like jacking it to my monster cock,” Damien muttered as the door swung shut. He looked Pip up and down, and smiled. “Hope you can take a dick.”

“Oh,” Pip blushed, digging the toe of his shoe into the laminate after taking a step back. “I've been told I am lovely, actually.”

“Probably all medicated out of their minds. Uncultured swine will accept any pocket for their penises.”

“Well,” Pip stalled, a bit flabbergasted, “I'm sure it'll be fine.”

“It's not your rut, is it? All you have to do is lay there,” Damien wasn't smiling. His face was cast in a scowl. “Might as well be a streetwalker, Pip. You'd probably make more money that way. Didn't you want better for yourself? Better than being someone common prostitute? Bet it keeps your soulmate in a jealous rage.”

“We haven't met, me and my soulmate. I'm tattooless,” Pip looked at the ground as Damien snorted. “Anyways, I like helping people,” Pip beamed. “And I'm going to do my best job to help you through your rut.” He took a few steps forward, and buried his nose in Damien's neck. He took a few deep inhales as the other man stood rigid. “Smells like we have less than an hour before it hits, chap.”

“You've always been a nuisance, Frenchie.”

“I'm British,” Pip pulled away, plopping himself down on the lone bed in the room. It was a double, with starchy white sheets. He could tell through his scrubs that they weren't good quality. Hospital sheets never were, especially the ones used for sexual purposes.

“Take your goddamn clothes off,” he barked. “I haven't got all day. Apparently, less than an hour by your count.”

“Sure thing,” he chirped, pulling his shirt over his head. He stood up, momentarily, stepping out of his pants. They caught around his shoes, pooling at his ankles. As Pip sat back down to kick them off, Damien was on his knees, sliding his fingers behind Pip’s heel. He tossed the shoes, and clothes, at the door with a chuckle.

“You can't even remember to take your own shoes off, imbecile? What you humans say about Omegas being inferior, must be correct.”

Pip drew his mouth into a line as he bit his tongue. He was smart. Smart enough to know when he was being toyed with, at least.

“Any special requests?” Pip asked, glaring at the ground.

“Call me sir, or master,” he undid the bow holding his gown on with a yank.

“Not your highness, or lord?” He joked, feeling a smile creep back to his face. These weren't uncommon requests. Alphas tended to like power, at least in his experiences, especially those locked away. The less power they had, the more power they wanted during ruts.

“Those would be fine as well,” Damien smirked. “I'm going to be the best partner of your life, Pirrup.”

Pip looked up to see Damien completely nude, cock erect as he looked over the bed. He had a tattoo, a pentagram over his sternum.

“You are big,” Pip murmured, feeling his mouth go a bit dry. “You might be the biggest, actually.” To be honest, Pip didn't know if that was true, but he felt like Damien would appreciate hearing it. “I like your tattoo.”

“I don't have a tattoo,” Damien rolled his eyes, pushing Pip onto the bed. “Soulmates are a stupid human thing.”

“It's right there,” Pip smiled, delicately tracing the pattern on his chest. “It's nice.”

“My father is playing a prank on me,” Damien growled, staring at Pip’s chest. “I do not have a soulmate. I am not human.”

“Did your mate leave you?” He whispered into Damien's chest. “Soulmates aren't perfect, sometimes they leave when the other falls ill.”

“Can you hear, you imbecile?” Damien screamed, pinning Pip’s hands above his head. “I do not have a mate. It's certainly not you.”

“Me?” Pip laughed nervously. “No, I just work here. I'm tattooless. I’ll meet them someday, I'm sure of it.”

“You humans are so out of touch,” Damien groaned, grabbing at Pip’s chest. “Look down, Pirrup.”

Pip felt his mouth go dry when he saw a star in black ink on his chest. He blinked, then rubbed his eyes, and looked again. It wasn't just a star. It was a pentagram. They matched.

“We're soulmates,” he said quietly. “We're meant to be together,” he said a little louder. Finally, he let out a shrill squeal, kicking his legs in excitement underneath Damien. “We're soulmates!”

“It appears we are,” Damien sighed. “Not that it matters. I'm here, and you have this repulsive job. Even if I wanted to be your mate, which I don't, you're a whore, Pip. Didn't you ever wonder if your mate would even want you after this sort of job?”

Pip didn't respond. He just pulled himself up, and kissed Damien, wrapping his legs around his waist. He rocked his hips back and forth, relishing in the friction. After some resistance, Damien opened his mouth and returned the kiss. Something heavy hit the air, musky, and Pip felt Damien press his body into him. There was stillness for a moment, and then Pip felt himself flipped onto his stomach.

“I’m going to break you in half,” Damien smiled, as he pulled Pip up by his hips. “Fill you full of my seed.”

“Unf,” Pip moaned into the pillow. “First time with my soulmate. We're soulmates. I have a soulmate,” Pip laughed.

“Spread your legs, Pip. I have needs,” Damien growled into the shell of his ear. Pip nodded, whimpering slightly at the demanding tone. He listened, letting his knees sink apart on the bed.

The position was uncomfortable, the arch of his back too deep and his weight unevenly distributed. Pip only had a second to think about that, before he felt something brush against his hole. He moaned, biting the pillow in preparation.

“I'm not even going to finger you. It's just going to be my fat cock. Are you ready?”

Pip nodded into the pillow, teeth clenched. In short order Damien was pressing his way into Pip. Pip cried into the pillow, the sound muffled. As Damien slid all the way in, he pulled Pip’s shoulder length hair upwards.

“I want to hear you scream,” he hissed, prying the pillow from Pip’s mouth. “What's my name?”

“Damien,” he keened as he pulled himself out. Quickly, and without warning, he slammed himself against Pip. “Ah! Damien!”

“That's right,” he panted. “Say my name, you fucking slut.” Damien continued, moving quickly as Pip squealed and whimpered beneath him. “Whose are you, bitch?”

“Yours,” he cried, pressing his hips into Damien. “Soulmates.”

“A hooker is my soulmate,” Damien snorted. “A hooker I know from elementary school.”

“Soulmate,” he repeated, feeling his eyes lull into his head as the head of Damien's dick rammed into his prostate. “There, there, there,” he chanted, tilting his hips further upwards.

“You're going to give me a child,” Damien rasped in his ear. “You're first heat should be coming.”

“Heat,” Pip gasped. “Oh my God, don't stop. Don't, God, don't.” Damien stalled above Pip.

“You're fertile,” Damien repeated, going still. “We shouldn't do this.”

“Don't stop,” he protested, kicking his legs against the mattress. His mind was cloudy as he rocked his ass in the air. He needed to be filled. He needed Damien.

“Mortals,” he sighed. “It'll be a demon. You'll give birth to a demon. It might even kill you.”

“We're soulmates,” Pip giggled, like it was the best joke he had ever heard. “I have a soulmate.” Damien grunted, and slid back into Pip.

“I'll have to leave the hospital,” he groaned, steadily pulling in and out. “It's so easy here. So much human misery, no need to look for it. Do you want me to come? I can knot on command.”

“Knot?” Pip asked, turning his head to watch from his peripheral vision. He sunk further into the bed as a hand moved to his dick, pumping quickly as Damien began thrusting harder. “Damien?”

“Coming,” he moaned, collapsing into Pip. “You like my knot?”

“Uh-huh,” Pip whimpered, tilting his hips to grant better access to his dick. “It’s awfully warm.”

“Hence why they call it a heat,” Damien sneered. “You close?”

“Close,” he said through gritted teeth. After a few quick pumps he felt all the muscles in his body contract as he came. “Jesus, Damien!”

Damien lay on top of him, breath steady on his neck. Slowly, he moved his hand to stroke Pip’s hair, tucking long strands behind his ear. Pip signed, enjoying the preening. This was not normal Alpha rut behavior. His previous clients were very concerned with their sexual experience, not his. But they weren't his soulmate.

Pip had a soulmate, now.

He laughed again, this time louder. Not only did he have a soulmate, but he was being bred by him right now. His soulmate’s dick was snuggly inside him.

“What’s so funny?”

“We're soulmates,” he laughed. “Soulmates,” he said again, slower. He tasted the words in his mouth, trying to memorize how they felt. “Soulmates.”

  
  
  


* * *

 

  
  


“Breakfast,” a gruff voice called out. Pip lifted his head from beneath the sheet. “Come get it.”

“Alrighty,” he replied, prying his body apart from Damien. The door slid shut with a click as Damien pulled him back down by the waist.

“You're in heat,” he grumbled. “I'll get the food.”

“It's my job to feed you,” he protested. “I have to do my job.”

“Lay down,” Damien roared. “We're mating without a nest and I don't need you freaking out on me.” The tray rattled in his hands as he walked back to the bed. “You're going to drink.”

“I'm not thirsty,” he called with the sheet still over his head. “Come back to bed.”

“I didn't fucking ask, did I?” Damien growled. “Now sit up and take a sip of juice or so help me, I will send you to the lakes of fire myself.”

“Okay, a drink,” Pip nodded, peeking his head above the covers. Damien had a juice box in hand, straw already inserted. He wasn't handing it to Pip though. When Pip reached for the drink, Damien batted his hand away. “I thought you wanted me to drink?”

“Open your mouth,” he glared down at the sheets as he talked.

“Oh my goodness,” Pip giggled. “Are you feeding me? Aw, you're playing provider. Okay, okay, I’ll open my mouth. Oh, this is lovely.”

“Just shut up and drink the juice,” Damien shoved the drink into his mouth, the straw sliding past his lips. “Your so chatty. You should be all about getting laid right now.”

“Oh,” he said after a sip, “I'd like that very much.” He reached for Damien's free hand and positioned it over his dick. It was concealed by the sheet, but a faint outline of his erection could be seen as he lounged on the bed. “You’re taking such good care of me,” he whispered.

“Well,” a blush spread across Damien's checks, “your body is going through a lot of changes. I think you've had enough juice.”

“Me too,” Pip smiled as the drink was sat on the ground with the rest of the tray. “Can I ask you something?”

“You're already asking,” Damien said, groping Pip’s dick through the sheet.

“Mmmm, can we kiss? I've just, ah, that's nice, I want to kiss you.”

“I want to rail you into the mattress,” Damien countered, moving the sheet away.

“Both?” Pip raised his eyebrows, suddenly very aware of uncovered he was. “Put the sheet back. I don't like it.”

“Of course you don't,” Damien laughed, sliding on top of Pip, then draping the sheet over them. “You need a nest.”

“Mmm,” Pip responded feeling a hand on his dick again. “I like you here.”

“Of course,” Damien chucked, arranging Pip’s legs so they were on his shoulders. “I'm your mate.”

“We're soulmates,” Pip grinned. “My soulmate gave me juice.”

“So your stupid ass doesn't die from screwing,” Damien leaned forward, putting Pip’s legs over his shoulders.

“Are we going to kiss?” Pip asked as Damien's face drew nearer. “I’ve never kissed anyone before, so I don't know if I'll be any good. But I’ll try, I'd just really like-”

Damien placed his lips on Pip’s. It was chaste at first, as chaste as any kiss while naked can be. In short order Pip’s hands were in Damien's hair, pulling as he lined up his cock. As they deepened the kiss, Damien pushed forward. Immediately Pip yanked, forcing him deeper. Without thinking, Pip broke apart from the kiss to scream.

“Harder,” he howled, making no effort to contain his volume. “Fuck me faster and harder.”

“Mmph,” Damien agreed with a curt nod. “Harder. Faster.”

“I want to do this forever,” he cried out, hands scratching down Damien's back. “Fuck! Damien!”

“You're so loud,” Damien teased, moving a hand to Pip’s chest to twist his nipple.

“Sorry! Ah! I can’t-” he was cut off by Damien's lips crashing into his. It was only a few moments, but it was long enough to leave breathless.

“I like it,” Damien whispered. “Want me to jack you off?” 

“Uh-uh,” he moaned. “Keep, oh fuck! Fuck! Don't stop! Bloody hell!”

“I'm not stopping,” Damien reassured, giving him a ginger smack on his ass for good measure.

“Again!” Pip shouted, muscles tensing as Damien pulled his hand away. “I need to come Damien! Need!”

“And you will,” Damien rolled his eyes. He moved his hand to Pip’s penis to begin feverishly pumping. “Don't get quiet on me now.”

Pip look up at Damien, mouth open as he breathed in ragged pants. Any sound he tried to make came out strangled. They stared at each other as Damien continued to pound into him. They shared a smile and a nod as Pip came between them, coating them each in semen.

Almost immediately Damien came, knotting Pip into place as he filled him full of his seed. It was silent, save for the occasional mewl from Pip.

“How was that?” Damien asked coyly.

“Uh huh,” Pip replied with a nod, feeling his eyes droop shut. Exhaustion hit him like a ton of bricks once they had finally stopped moving. He had never felt so tired before.

“You can't sleep like this,” Damien scoffed, grabbing at his legs, which were still swung over his shoulders. Pip nodded again, opening his mouth in yawn as he nuzzled into the pillow.

He could feel Damien watching him as he started to drift off. He complained in the form of a huff when they separated, though it was much more comfortable to be flat on the bed. He felt arms around his waist as Damien repositioned himself.

With a smile he turned inwards, tucking his head under Damien's chin. He may have even mumbled out a goodnight. 

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


“So he's in heat?” A woman asked from the door.

“That's what I fucking said,” Damien glowered. “Can you hear, bitch?”

“That's not very nice,” Pip hummed, squeezing Damien tighter. His legs were wrapped around his waist, the knot still hard. “She's just doing her job.”

“It's stressing you out. She needs to leave. We need to be alone,” he glared in her direction. “And bring some fluids, for fuck’s sake.”

“We're not really set up to accommodate first heats,” she murmured. “I don't think you're cleared for having a mate present, Damien.”

“He's not going anywhere,” Pip could feel all his muscles tense as he shouted.

“He's not hurting me,” Pip said softly. “You're taking splendid care of me, aren't you?”

“I guess he can stay? I mean it's half over, right?” The blanket was pulled tighter over them as the woman spoke.

“Has it been three days?” Pip asked, not moving from Damien's arms.

“Hell if I know,” he laughed, groping for Pip’s ass.

“We've screwed seventeen times,” he giggled as the door shut. “That’s a lot.” His head fell forward as he let out a yawn. “Hey Damien?”

“What? Are you falling back asleep? Mortals.”

“No. I mean, yeah,” he corrected. “But that's not what I wanted to say, love.”

“Love?” Damien huffed.

“Uh-huh, love. It's a cute nickname, because you're cute,” Pip teased, eyes closed as he threw his arms around Damien's neck.

“What did you want to say? Out with it.”

“Did you know we're soulmates?” He smiled, chuckling. 

“No, I didn't have any idea,” Damien snorted.

“Well, we are.”

“That's what the matching tattoos mean, Pip,” he groaned.

“Soulmates,” he yawned.

“Is that all you had to say?”

“Soulmates,” he repeated drowsily.

“Go the fuck to sleep, Phillip.” 


End file.
